


She's Got Beauty, She's Got Grace

by afteriwake



Series: Discoveries [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Mary Morstan, Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Married John, Married Life, Married Mary Morstan/John Watson, Nice Mary Morstan, POV John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock notices John’s gained weight and brings it to his attention, John decides he needs to lose it and so he decides to best way is for him and Mary to take ballroom dancing classes. During the course of the lessons they discover that while he’s hopelessly inept Mary is quite the opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Got Beauty, She's Got Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chitarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chitarra/gifts).



> My friend **Chitarra** made a fanfic request that got her a trilogy of short fics, so this is the first one in the trilogy! Her prompt was " _Disturbed by Sherlock's comment about him having gained 7lbs, John decides that he'd like to sign himself and Mary up to take ballroom dancing classes at a local studio, figuring it can not only be good exercise to lose a little weight, but also an activity he and Mary can do together. John turns out to be hilariously not very good at it while Mary surprises John with how beautiful of a dancer she is, which John absolutely loves._ " and I really had a lot of fun answering this one. I don't know a whole lot about ballroom dancing so I apologize that there isn't a lot of specifics on the types of dances in the fic.

“You gained weight,” Sherlock said, eyeing John up and down. “Not quite a stone. Roughly…three kilos, give or take?”

John huffed at that. It was true, the waistband of his trousers were a little tighter fitting, and his shirts and jumpers were a little more snug, but it wasn’t anything his friend should be pointing out so…so… _bluntly_. “Yes, well, Mary likes to cook. And she’s a good cook who makes good food,” he said defensively. “When you and Molly settle down, you’ll realize this. You’ll gain weight and get plumper around the midsection. You’ll see, Sherlock, mark my words.”

Sherlock shrugged slightly and turned his attention back to the book he’d been looking at for the case. John tried to let the comment go, but it gnawed at him. It didn’t really _matter_ if he’d gained weight, did it? He was quite contented with his home life, with Mary and with little Jacquelyn. He had finally accepted this life for himself, with his adventures with Sherlock being a thing on the side, and put Mary and his daughter first. He’d come so close to losing it all, to having that arsehole take it all away, and he wanted to cherish every moment he could with them. So what did it really matter if being happy and contented meant he’d gained a little weight? It meant he was well taken care of.

But it settled in his mind, ate at him. Perhaps he could stand to lose that three kilos. Maybe a little bit more. Give Mary back the trim and fit man she’d married. And…maybe they could do it together. Do something a bit more fun than going to a gym. And when he saw the advert for the ballroom dancing classes, a light bulb went off over his head.

**The Basics**

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mary asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. They were at the dance studio, waiting for the instructor to arrive. Mary had said she had some experience, and was decent. Her definition of decent was “haven’t done it since the nineties, so I’m a bit rusty, but isn’t this supposed to be like one of those things where once you learn you never really forget?” which he had to admit hadn’t quite put him at ease. But at least she had been honest. They’d worked quite hard at being honest over the years they’d been married, and it was always a good thing when they were honest.

He nodded. “Doesn’t matter how much better you are. I’ll pick it up. I mean, we got through the waltz at our wedding, right?” he said.

She gave him a fond smile and leaned in. “It wasn’t a _real_ waltz, dear,” she said. “But maybe you will. And then we can glide around the dance floor and be the envy of all our friends.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek as their instructors came in, a brother and sister team named Poppy and Errol Moffitt. They were young, about mid-twenties, and seemed vibrant and full of energy. John hoped they didn’t grate on his nerves by the end of the class. They paired everyone off who hadn’t come with partners, and then began to show the class the simple move they were going to learn today, the box step.

“Well, that looks easy enough,” John said after watching Poppy and Errol glide along the floor. Once they were done and they ceded the floor to the class, John and Mary got into position. John immediately started off on the wrong foot. “Err, no wait,” he said as Mary chuckled. He then moved the right foot and then moved Mary about the floor in a rather clunky and jerky version of the box step.

After a moment Poppy came over to cut in, and Errol led Mary away, the two of them gliding off together. John kept glancing over as Poppy walked him through what he was doing. God, Mary looked so graceful and beautiful, he thought to himself, like she was dancing along on a cloud. After he seemed to get the hang of it decently enough Poppy gave him back to his wife. After a turn about the floor Mary gave him a wide grin. “I’d say you have potential,” she replied.

“Not as much as you,” he said.

“Jealous?” she teased.

“Not really,” he replied. “I may have to request some private lessons, though.”

She laughed and leaned forward. “If you can get the basics down, wait until you see my tango,” she said, keeping her lips towards his ear. “I can do all sorts of interesting things with that.”

He grinned and kept her close. This idea seemed better and better every moment, he realized.

**The Rumba**

The first actual dance they were going to learn was the rumba, it seemed. It built on the box step, which he had down decently but wasn’t a master at. He wasn’t nearly as good as his wife. It seemed this came naturally to Mary. She had a skill and a sense of poise that he just couldn’t come close to achieving. He didn’t dance with her during all of the lessons, as she was obviously much more skilled and Errol and Poppy asked her to help some of the other students who were struggling.

And he found he didn’t mind. He enjoyed chatting with the other women he danced with. They were interesting women, who were taking the classes for a multitude of reasons: some for the experience, some to try and find a potential love interest, some to learn a new skill, and one because she wanted to fulfill a dream of becoming a professional ballroom dancer. It was actually rather nice to get out of the house and socialize with people aside from his work mates and Sherlock and Molly and Greg. And catching a bite to eat afterward had become something nice to look forward to as well.

He was dancing with Krista right now, and she was as hopelessly inept at this dance as he seemed to be, so they were commenting on the other dancers as they muddled their way through. She kept looking back at Mary, remarking how lucky he was that he could have private lessons with her if he chose, giving him a slight wink and a nudge at that, and he gave her a grin in return. Yes, he was quite lucky. He was the luckiest damn man in the class as far as he was concerned. 

The song ended and Mary left her partner and came over to him. “You owe me a dance, Mr. Watson,” Mary said with a smile.

“I’ll only step on your feet and ruin those heels you’re wearing, Mrs. Watson,” he said with a chuckle, sitting down in a chair.

She looked down at them and then shrugged. “They’re black, dear. It’s fine. But I want to dance at least two dances with you, no matter how bad you are. You’re my husband. I deserve to have you step on my toes at least three times a lesson.” She sat down in his lap. “We got married for better or for worse. I’ll take this as part of my for better.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “Well, I suppose if this is what you consider for better then I picked the right woman after all.”

“You certainly did,” she said with a grin before leaning in the kiss him. They did that for a moment before she pulled away slightly. “Next dance, you’re mine. Understood?”

“Understood,” he said.

“Good,” she said, smiling before she kissed him again. He adored this woman with every single ounce of his heart, he really did.

**The Foxtrot**

“We should just face the reality that I’m never going to get the hang of these dances,” John said as he stepped on Mary’s foot for the fifth time as they practiced the steps for the foxtrot. “I will never be able to take you dancing properly.

“Eh, well, I can always borrow Sherlock for that,” Mary said with a shrug. He had to give her credit for the fact she hadn’t winced or made a face any of the times he’d stepped on her toes. He’d probably mangled her poor feet and she hadn’t said one word about it, not while they were dancing nor when they were at home. She was certainly a trooper about it. It was yet another reason he loved his wife so much. “I mean, to be honest, while its fun there’s a lot to be said for the type of dancing where you’re simply pressed together, swaying in time to the music, holding each other close.”

“Oh, is there?” he asked with a grin.

“Mmhmm,” she said with a smile. “And we can do that at home, after we’ve sent Jacquelyn off to your parent’s or off to Molly’s, and perhaps it could lead to some other rather pleasurable activities…with less clothing on…”

He chuckled. “Are you suggesting we leave the dance lesson early?” he asked.

“Who, me?” she said with a fake innocence. He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “I _am_ suggesting that during our break perhaps we ask Molly if she’ll watch Jacquelyn a little longer and perhaps we ask our friends if it’s all right if we don’t join them for our usual after lesson dinner. I thought it might be nice to get some time alone. We don’t get that often, aside from the lessons.”

John nodded. To be honest, the last few weeks of ballroom dancing lessons had let him see his wife in a whole new way. He had begun to see her as a desirable woman again. Not that he hadn’t _before_ , because he loved her and had married her, but it had sparked something in him where he wanted to worship her in a way. She seemed much more graceful now, beautiful in a way she hadn’t been before. The chance to be alone with her and to _show_ her how much he loved her was too good to pass up. “Then let’s make arrangements when we get our break,” he said.

“Good,” she replied. They went into the turn and he stepped on her foot again but she didn’t seem to care and neither did he. Tonight was going to be a very nice night, he thought to himself. He’d make sure of it. He’d do everything he could to make sure she realized just how important and special she was to him and just how much she meant to him, because really, she was one of the two people in the world he would do anything for, and she deserved to know that.

**The Tango**

He gave up partway through the lesson. He’d been tripping over his feet and making an utter fool of himself and he wanted to keep _some_ of his dignity intact. He wasn’t the only one, though; at least a third of the class was sitting in the chairs. But Mary…God, Mary was stunning, Mary had been paired off with Errol when it was obvious that this was a dance she knew and it was something she knew well, and even the two-thirds of the class who had remained in the lesson had moved to the sidelines to watch Mary and Errol do the tango.

It was absolutely mesmerizing. He realized he should have felt jealous; after all, it was the _tango_ she was doing with another man, but he was glued to his seat, awestruck. He was in turns proud and incredibly turned on. She was beauty and grace and sex personified, he realized. And when it was over the entire class clapped quite enthusiastically, him included. She grinned widely and then came over to him. “I missed doing that,” she said, sitting next to him.

“I’m just sorry I’m absolutely wretched at it,” he said. “God, you were absolutely brilliant.”

“You think so?” she asked, tilting her head and reaching for her water bottle.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he said. “You were right when you said you could do things with the tango.”

Her eyes were sparkling. “Well, if you’d like, I could work on your tango with you in some private lessons until it’s up to scratch,” she said. “I’d much prefer to tango with my husband anyway.”

“I could be game for some private lessons,” he said with a grin.

“Good.” She leaned in and kissed him softly, but it was a nice, lingering kiss, his favorite type. Then she pulled away and had more water. “You know, our ballroom lessons are almost at an end,” she said after she swallowed her water. “And I had a thought.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“Well, we’ve had fun with this, yeah? And I liked the side benefits, the exercise and the time with other people and the new friends and all of that. And I talked to a few other people, and we were floating the idea around, and…well…how do you feel about, perhaps…swing dancing lessons?”

He thought about it a moment. He was absolute crap at ballroom dancing, as they’d discovered over the last few weeks of lessons. But that was ballroom dancing. Swing dancing was a whole other beast. There was always the chance he could be decent at it. Plus he _did_ like the music, at least. He tilted his head from side to side, making a slight face and then nodded. “Eh, why not?” he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “Could be fun.”

She got a wide smile on her face and then reached over and kissed his cheek. “Excellent,” she said. “You won’t regret it.”

“Hopefully,” he said with a grin.


End file.
